The Beautyous prize, the Golden fleece.
Love is a world of many paines,
Where coldest hills, and hottest playnes,
With barren rockes and fertill fieldes
By turne despaire and comforte yeldes;
But who can doubt of prosperous lucke
Where Love and fortune both conducte?
Thy Grandsire great, and father too,
Were thine examples thus to doe,
Whose brave attempts, in heate of love,